


get out while the getting is good

by ErraticIpseity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt No Comfort, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 14:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21272909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErraticIpseity/pseuds/ErraticIpseity
Summary: So, he found himself the coward again. He was going to run from judgement. If he planned to evade all his enemies, he would need run quickly.Written for prompt 28 "Beaten" of Whumptober 2019AU of Avengers where Loki steals the Tesseract after being Hulk smashed (i.e. I am nearly 8 years late to the Avengers AU Party and I don’t care because I’m having a great time)





	get out while the getting is good

**Author's Note:**

> Weird that this is the first fic I've written for this fandom that I've been lurking around in for literal years

The battle was lost. Loki knew this. He knew little else, anymore. There had only been his glorious purpose. Without it he was rage, and despair, and pain—nothing more. It would have been so easy to lay there and finally rest. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t moving. Yelling, fighting, killing, lying, holding himself up in the shape of a person. He considered waiting there and surrendering to Thor’s allies when they came to find him. He was tired of leading.

Through the haze, a memory of the Other’s threats if he were to fail lodged itself forefront of his mind. In the muddle of his thoughts, a crescendo of fear built in his mind and body, clawing at his core, tearing away all other emotion. His breathing quickened involuntarily, despite the protests of his ribs. In that moment of panic, he hoped that he would be put to death before Thanos and his allies could reach him.

_Are you truly going to let someone else decide your fate yet again? _he thought. _Do you really think Midgard or Asgard will give you the release of a quick death? After all that you have done?_

Anything Asgard or Midgard could conceive of would likely be less harrowing than what his masters had in store for him. Then again, he had seen how Asgard’s war criminals fared. And he knew of SHIELD from his Hawkeye. So, he found himself the coward again. He was going to run from judgement. If he planned to evade all his enemies, he would need run quickly.

Fleeing presented its own problems. He had no means to travel between realms. Fortunately, he knew where to get one. He flexed one hand experimentally and winced. He reached cautiously for his magic. It felt as if he was scraping for scraps in an empty barrel. Not good. He felt as if he would be unable to move for a week. However, he found fear to be a powerful motivator, so he was going to move regardless. He got one elbow braced against the floor, then one foot, and finally managed to roll awkwardly onto his stomach. He couldn’t help but groan as pain blazed through every inch of his body at the movement. He felt several bones move in ways they were not meant to move. But he had no time to wallow in misery. He pushed up onto his hands and knees, gasping as his head swam. Dust and shards of flooring fell from his clothes like snow. His arms trembled under his weight and he nearly collapsed back to the floor.

_You will heal from this, _he reminded himself, locking his elbows. _You will not heal so easily from Thanos’ wrath. _

He dragged himself up the steps, then up the wall. By the time he was standing he was trembling like mad, every muscle shaking. He took one step and dizziness assaulted him, but he kept his footing. He took another.

Loki reached the top of the tower, somehow. By the time he got there he was drenched in sweat from the effort, and still shaking. He forced himself not to draw an illusion of togetherness over himself. He would need his limited power for other things. Regardless, he drew himself to as near his full height as he could muster. Appearances. Force of habit.

Selvig and Black Widow were on the roof, looking nearly as beaten as he felt. Selvig flinched when he appeared. Black Widow stood tall, looked him in the eye. Though Loki could barely see, his desperation to reach the Tesseract tingled beneath his skin. It was easy enough to replace desperation with magic, and—

A wave of green energy crashed out of him, sending the humans flying backwards. Loki didn’t pause to check if they’d been knocked from the roof. He staggered forward, pressed his hands through the energy of the portal. It would have flayed a mortal’s skin clean off. For him it was barely a first-degree burn. He snatched the Tesseract, felt its power thrumming in his veins, almost like it was greeting him as an old friend. And he stepped off Midgard.

His leap through space was wild, uncontrolled. It was far more difficult than projecting a duplicate of himself to another realm. He had certainly read of travelling like this, in theory, but didn’t expect it to hurt this much. His physical body felt the strain of holding the infinity stone, even contained as it was within the Tesseract. It hooked into his energy and used him as a conduit, flooding his body with unfamiliar power. Powers this strong were not meant to be used by one person with no mechanical conduit; if careless, even an experienced mage could easily be burned up, leaving only broken husk of what they once were.

He tumbled out through the ragged tear in space, crumpling to the sandy ground in a tangle of limbs. Graceless execution, but it had _worked_. Thanos would not find him here, at least for the moment. Once the fear began to subside, he took in his surroundings—dark sky, unfamiliar stars, three small moons, sandy dunes as far as he could see—for all of thirty seconds before his thoughts were overtaken by pain, nausea, and sheer exhaustion. There was a moment where he was not sure if he was going to vomit or pass out, but his body chose quickly, and unconsciousness swept over him. He felt relief, then he felt nothing more.


End file.
